


The Hook

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dalton Academy, Dom/sub Undertones, Drama, High School, M/M, Oral Sex, Sensory Deprivation, but they weren't dating, implied infidelity but not entirely, mention of Blaine, mildly Blaine unfriendly, the assumption is that this happens around Christmas, when Kurt and Blaine liked each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: Kurt and Sebastian have an arrangement. Kurt gives, Sebastian takes. But who has the control is not expressly defined. It's used as a drug by both of them: Kurt uses it to keep his head; Sebastian uses it to keep Kurt, even though Kurt's not entirely his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lilinas's Bitchmas prompts hook, scarf, sound, naughty, understand, exchange, and icicle, and for the Hummel Holidays prompt 'Christmas'. This has D/s elements to it, even though it's not expressly stated that they're in a D/s relationship. This is an example of using D/s in what could be considered a vanilla relationship. Hook and naughty are used symbolically, as is understand, since this is an arrangement between the two of them, the rules of which are known, but unwritten. Exchange in this is used to make you think - it seems easy to tell who the Dominant in this situation is, or is it really? Is Kurt the Dominant, and Sebastian a warrior prince submissive? Or is Sebastian the Dominant, and Kurt the submissive? It's really open to interpretation, but there's clues either way. Assumes that Kurt, Blaine, and Sebastian are all the same grade, attending Dalton at the same time.

“Jesus Christ! Where the hell is he?” Kurt mutters, rushing down the hallway, searching room after room. It’s not that Kurt has a schedule to keep. He has nothing but time on his hands. But the longer he waits, the more desperate he becomes. He’ll start to rethink things, _overthink_ things, and then he’ll hate himself for wanting it.

But he’s already sent a handful of texts, so he’s in no position to turn back now. Nor does he want to. If he’s going to get through the afternoon – the phone call with his stepmom, and another with the hospital, neither of which he’s looking forward to - he needs to have this at least once.

It’ll give him an edge, keep him focused.

He goes through the whole of the Dalton main building from top to bottom before Kurt finds him, predictably, in the last place he looks, which really should have been the _first_ place since they’d move in here eventually – the Warbler practice room, sitting in one of the few lounge chairs. It’s not all that comfortable a piece of furniture, but he’s sunk down in it, arms on the rests, head back against the stiff cushion, his earbuds in his ears. Eyes closed, listening to music, he’s blocking everything out.

That answers the question of why he didn’t answer Kurt’s texts.

He’s blocking Kurt out as well.

Kurt closes the door behind him and locks it. Then he marches over and taps Sebastian on the shoulder. Sebastian takes his time removing one earbud, doing it a second after Kurt contemplates ripping it out of his ear.

“Where have you been?” Kurt scolds. “I’ve sent you a dozen messages.” Kurt climbs in Sebastian’s lap. He doesn’t ask for permission. He can’t ask for this. He doesn’t even want to admit that he wants it, especially not with Sebastian. But he needs it. So he just takes it.

And Sebastian lets him.

“I’ve been sitting here with my phone on silent. I didn’t get them. Sorry.”

“And if you had?” Kurt asks, hands on hips, glaring accusingly. Scared, to be honest, that the moment he would never admit he’s afraid of had actually come. Because if he admits that he’s scared that one day Sebastian will turn him down, then that would mean this means more to him than just an occasional fuck. Even if this is only a crutch, that fear would give it weight. Kurt can’t afford that. He can’t afford being hung up on Sebastian.

Not when he’s fine being hung up on Blaine.

Sebastian peeks one eye open, staring up at Kurt with his usual conceited smirk.

“You know what I would have said.”

 _Yes_. His answer would have been _yes_. Because for the months they’ve been doing this, Sebastian has never said _no_. And even though they agreed this arrangement of theirs would be decided case by case as the situation arises, Sebastian has no intention of ever saying _no_.

Because some day he’ll win. Someday he’ll get the upper hand. Someday he’ll prove to Kurt that Kurt doesn’t need Blaine. That there’s someone else. Someone better.

But until then, why ever would he kick a willing ass out of bed?

Or off his lap, as the case may be, when a visibly more relaxed Kurt pulls down the zip to his jeans and climbs up further onto the arm rests.

Sebastian grins as he watches Kurt pull out his cock, hands shaking. Sebastian enjoys Kurt’s discomfort, that second where he asks himself, “What am I doing?” before he gives in.

And he _always_ gives in.

Kurt sticks his hand in his pocket and tugs out something else essential to this scenario. He unravels the strip of red fabric before Sebastian’s eyes, presents it as if it’s something Sebastian should be wary of. An Alexander McQueen this time, Sebastian notes. One of Kurt’s favorites. It makes an unintended smiley face the way Kurt holds it, hanging in a U at waist level with Kurt’s cock dangling below it.

Sebastian snickers.

Kurt looks unamused. “May I?”

“By all means.”

Kurt wraps the scarf around Sebastian’s eyes, winding it several times before tying it in the back. The scarf isn’t new. It’s a device in this game. It’s a way of removing Sebastian’s identity, turning him into a blank slate.

That’s his hook. He’ll be anyone that Kurt wants him to be, anyone that Kurt needs to enact private revenge on … as long as Sebastian gets to have Kurt.

Sebastian sticks his earbuds back in his ears and flips through the songs on his iPod, searching for the one he wants. He finds it – _Seven Nation Army_ – just as Kurt taps his chin. Sebastian opens his mouth. This is the point where Kurt stops talking and just uses, and Sebastian lets him, sitting still and pliant, mouth open, eyes closed, with the pounding beat of the music in his ears. Apparently, whatever Kurt needs to fuck out of his system isn’t meant to bring Sebastian any joy. Aside from grabbing Sebastian’s hair for leverage while he fucks his mouth, Kurt doesn’t touch him.

But Kurt’s got it wrong because Sebastian can taste him. He can feel him. He can move his tongue, suck, lick, _affect_ him. Sebastian’s more a participant in this than Kurt gives him credit for, and Kurt gives him no credit.

It’s not always this way. Sometimes they take this party to Sebastian’s room and fuck like vanilla human beings. Sometimes they even kiss. That’s not about romance, and though Kurt doesn’t make Sebastian wear the scarf, he himself closes his eyes. But more times than not they do this here, in the choir room when everyone else is gone. Carefully measured danger, Kurt calls it. Someone could walk in (if they had the key), but at noon on a weekend, when no one would be on campus if their lives depended on it, or like now, during the Christmas break, when a few pathetic saps don’t have a way to get home, the school belongs to them.

Kurt would usually be home, but his father’s in the hospital for the second time this year. Kurt knows he’ll have to go back soon and face reality, but he’d rather hang out here for a little while, pretend that everything’s normal for as long as he can get away with it, until he’s forced back, internally kicking and screaming.

Blaine went home. He invited Kurt to come with, but when Kurt said no, Blaine figured he’d be okay and left. He calls him every day, checks in. Sometimes Kurt answers. Sometimes he doesn’t.

Sebastian would usually be home, too, but he stayed behind for Kurt, stayed behind for _this_ \- to be Kurt’s stress relief, to take Kurt’s beating, to be Kurt’s receptacle, his toy, his lover, his whatever else he needs as long as he’s fine submitting and being silent.

As long as he keeps this secret.

With the music in his ears, Sebastian can’t hear Kurt cumming, the grunts that lead up to it, the moans, the whines. But he can feel it in Kurt’s hand tangled in his hair, winding tight, in the hips that speed up in waves from smooth to sloppy, and then stop. A few bars before the song actually ends, Kurt cums in Sebastian’s mouth. He tries to pull out, back away before it happens, but Sebastian does something with his tongue that makes Kurt go still, and obediently, he stays.

The room goes quiet. There’s no one around to disturb Kurt’s buzz and Sebastian’s earbuds block all sound. Sebastian can’t breathe and Kurt holds his breath. But as Sebastian’s saliva begins to go cold on the exposed base of Kurt’s cock, Kurt’s cloud disintegrates, and he floats back down to earth. He rewinds, letting go of Sebastian’s hair, pulling out of his mouth, and climbing, with what strength’s left in his rubbery legs, off Sebastian’s chair. He cleans up what little mess there is, and zips up his pants without giving Sebastian a second glance.

Sebastian wipes his mouth, pulls out his earbuds. “So … you’re just going to go now?”

“Don’t I always?”

Sebastian makes a non-committal face, one that says _yes_ , with a side portion of _but maybe one day you’ll stay_. “Answer me this … did that have anything to do with me this time?”

Kurt leans down to Sebastian’s ear, his eyes icicle cold, and whispers. “I’ll never tell.” He pats Sebastian on the shoulder condescendingly, and walks towards the door. “You gonna be around later?”

“You know it.” Sebastian returns his earbuds to his ears, setting his iPod to shuffle. His phone, which he’s had on vibrate since he woke up this morning, he sets on his knee where he can feel it go off, the way he did the dozen times Kurt texted an hour ago. “Right the fuck here.”


End file.
